8 Second Windows
by Zelda Ophelia
Summary: Drabbles written for the 8 seconds challenge on LJ 8secondsfic . Prompts: Stella, photograph; Flack, badge; Hawkes & Adam, science; Adam, Mistake; Flack, Victory. Newest: Aiden, Presentation.
1. Boxes

It was a box she hadn't opened in years, filled with mementos, letters, pictures and other things she couldn't bring herself to get rid of. Memories. She had rediscovered it after the fire, in the back corner of a closet emptied as she moved what was left to her new apartment.

Now she sat on the floor in her empty living room, the box sitting closed in front of her. As she removed the lid, Stella was flooded with memories of her childhood. The Bennetts. Mindy. The orphanage. At the very bottom was a file she'd never been able to bring herself to open, her records as a ward of the state which she'd received when she turned 18. Information, if there was any, about the family, the people, who had given her up. Something the fire had nearly taken away.

She opened it. A picture fell into her lap.


	2. Worth

It wasn't easy giving that shiny piece of metal to the lieutenant. Those four digits were as much a part of him as his own name. It was his identity, _Donald Flack, Jr., NYPD Detective 1st Grade, badge number 8571_. He held it in his hand as if weighing it before handing it over. Weighing its worth, where its worth determined his worth. He knew he didn't kill Flemming and he knew Dr. Hammerbeck and the CSIs would prove it; that he could still wear this badge.

Like his badge, it was in someone else's hands now.


	3. Science Rules

"YES!" Adam jumped, pointing with both hands at the computer screen with a triumphant look. "Science rules, you drool!"

"Adam?"

He jumped, turning to see Hawkes standing in the doorway. He knew, without anyone telling him, that he was doing his best dear in headlights look and quickly looked away at the screen. "Uh, hi Doc."

"Is everything okay?" Hawkes stepped into the lab, glancing at the screen.

"Uh, yeah." Adam toed the floor. "Uh, Mac said that, you know, if I wasn't busy I could do other stuff on the computers. I was watching a YouTube clip. It was kinda cool."

"I bet," Hawkes said dryly, but with a grin. "So, what was it you were watching?"

"Um, well," he pointed at the file Hawkes was carrying, "don't you need me to do something?"

"It can wait," Hawkes shrugged, then laughed as Adam replayed the video he watched.


	4. Mistake

He had run every test he could think of. Then he had contacted Mac, who had suggested even more. Still, Adam was stymied. Mac and Hawkes' case was stuck and all of their hopes were riding on this one sample of dried blood.

So far he'd tested for DNA - too degraded to get anything usable. Blood type - O positive. Drug use - nothing but the presence of a small amount of acetaminophen, probably an over the counter dose. Viruses and antibodies - nothing uncommon.

Running his hand through his hair in frustration, he leaned back against the lab bench. There was only enough of the original sample remaining for one test. He could use the last sample to test for something else. But they'd risk getting it thrown out in court since there wasn't any remaining sample for the defense to test. At this point he didn't even have any idea of what else to test for. Carefully packing the remaining sample back in the petri dish, he turned to return it to the evidence cooler.

His foot hit something slick and he grabbed at the lab bench, knocking over a bottle of sodium chloride someone had left out. He felt like a character of an Acme cartoon as he fell, scrabbling to hold onto the petri dish while trying to stay upright. There was a bump against his calf - the bottle rolling off the bench - and the game was up. He could hear the sound of shattering, and a splash of liquid against the floor, as the bottle broke on impact. The petri dish finally slipped from his grasp and hit the ground. Breaking. Contaminating their last sample.

Adam dropped his head, sore and aching from hitting the floor, back against the wet tile in defeat. He could hear people coming, someone yelling for Hawkes.

It was over. He'd ruined it. Now they had nothing.


	5. Verdict

Flack sat outside the huge double doors, elbows on his knees, leaning forward and staring at his hands.

Waiting.

They were inside, relaying their decision. Making their judgment, not only on the defendant but also on his ability to do his job. On how good of a cop he was on a solo case. On his _first_ solo case.

The doors opened, people filing out and talking excitedly to one another. But he couldn't hear a word they said, it was as if he was underwater. Finally Bloomfield came out, grinning like a madman.

He began to relax, even before the Assistant District Attorney said a thing. He already knew.

"We won," Bloomfield said, clapping him on the back. "He's going to be behind bars for the rest of his life. Thanks to your testimony. Good work."


	6. Presentation

**Note:** This was written for the 8secondsfic challenge on LiveJournal. Table #2, prompt: presentation; 100 words.  
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Aiden fidgets restlessly as the team joins her at the lab bench, playing with a button on her lab coat as they settle in and turn to look at her expectantly. She doesn't know why Stella is making her do this. Okay, she does - but just because she made the connection, it doesn't mean she has to be the one explaining it, does it? She's still new, what makes Stella think they'll listen to her?

Catching her boss' reassuring look, Aiden takes a deep breath and starts explaining her hypothesis. It's science, it makes sense. She can do this.


End file.
